


Rooftops

by kiiwritesthings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, invasive thoughts, not actually as angsty as expected, though the warnings are there for a reason!, vean is not very stable and has
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiiwritesthings/pseuds/kiiwritesthings
Summary: Sometimes you consider, and sometimes your stupid vampire friend calls you at a dumb time.





	

The city stretched below him, cars whizzing beneath his feet and people going about their lives and others. The city was as lively as it always was, despite the early time in the morning. Creatures tended to mill about any time of the day.

This was not the first time Vean had stood on the rim of this roof. He suspected it would probably not be the last. It was sort of relaxing, counting how many people were walking around unaware. One or two would look up once and awhile, but none ever searched long enough to spot him. He doubted they would really care if they did.

His phone rang. Another moment, that would have surprised him, but it seemed oh so typical someone would want to talk to him now of all times. Right now, right on the precipice of-- whatever the hell this was. It was a complicated maneuver to sit down on the ledge and pull out his phone, but it was well practiced. The green button was swiped and the phone was lifted to his ear.

"Vean." He checked his wrist despite not having a watch. There were other reasons to look there.

"Good, I caught you. I have a very important question, Vean, and it might stem from the fact my taste buds no longer work so well, but, ah... how much lemon is supposed to go into this?" The voice was grainy through the phone, but easily recognizable regardless. And if that didn't tip him off, then the asking about a recipe certainly would. Vampires were strange; Damien was one of the stranger.

"I dunno what 'this' is supposedta be, D." Vean fiddled with his sleeve. Damien let out a distant 'oh!' and he heard a page flip in the background.

"Lemon-lime chicken- I think. This is- yes, that's chicken, I bought the right thing- by... heck, I'm not wearing my glasses, Vean." At this, the man addressed sighed. Of course. Century old vampire, forgets to wear his stupid, old-fashioned glasses. He faked stomping on passerby on the street below before replying. The silence was longer than it needed to be.

"Ya realize this happens er'rytime ya call me, right?"

"You should remember where I put them." He huffed a sigh and rolled nonexistent eyes. It'd be easy to slip off right now, leaving Damien hanging until his phone hit the ground and broke. The vampire would never be the wiser. He was probably used to people leaving his long life, anyhow.

"Lemme divine a map from my brain to scout yer house and figure out where yer glasses're in allllll that clutter. Ya realize my lack of eyes don't mean I can see wherever I want, right?" Damien let out a huff that was more mocking of Vean's earlier one than made of any actual annoyance. Vean could imagine Damien prancing around his kitchen, stocked for only guests instead of himself, looking at a pan with disappointment and shaking it around slightly. How... domestic.

"Yes, I know. It's a... darn shame," Vean cracked a little smile at the effort, "that you simply cannot gaze where you desire. It'd certainly make finding things easier..."

There was an exhale before Vean swung his leg onto the side with immediate ground. The straddle was by no means comfortable, so he simply heaved his other leg and stood. A long stretch let bones pop and crack and settle into place. "Where d'ya live again? Somethin' Maple, 5678?"

"Fallen Maple, 6785," Damien corrected, sounding perfectly at ease. Vean was smart enough to guess that the chicken was probably for him in the first place, and Damien just had a roundabout way of asking him over.

Another wayward glance was sent to the road below him- it'd be so very easy to just skip off now and leaving the vampire waiting for eternity (or, at least, until another guest was invited). But his feet picked up with his voice and the door to the roof was opened. "Stay on the phone with me- this taxi's gonna take five years."


End file.
